


Losing Composure

by ByTheDawn



Series: 300challenge [25]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Non-Consensual, Parent/Child Incest, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1428187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the #300Challenge, based off of the title prompt. Cora catches Regina with a maid and instils a painful lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Composure

Cora hated royal balls; royal balls were despicable meetings of moronic souls—the so called ‘elite’—that not only wore on her limited patience but utterly wasted her time. Being part of said elite did not lessen the frustration of participating even a little. Even now, she schmoozed with a Duchess, chatted with a King, and danced with a prince and all the while, she found herself become frustrated by two things in particular: the idiocy of the ruling class and her daughter’s eternal tardiness. She should have made her grand entrance nearly half of an hour ago, and still she had not appeared, nor had the trumpets sounded to announce her arrival. This was her ball—damn it—and she had better show up for it soon.

When another ten minutes—and a painfully inadequate dance—had passed, Cora excused herself and escaped the large ballroom, allowing herself the small reprieve whilst hunting down her wayward daughter who was _supposed_ to be celebrating her eighteenth birthday today. Knowing the insufferably narrow mind-set of the woman she had birthed, it wasn’t hard to find her, yet the state in which she did, did surprised the princess-by-marriage.

Cora refused to knock on the door to her daughter’s rooms, and knew that Regina would never lock it—she most certainly knew better than that—and so it was that Cora walked in on her daughter, kneeling on the cold stone of the palace floor in her expensive and lavishly birthday dress, tongue lapping eagerly at the cunt of Malinda—one of the kitchen maids—whose skirts were raised high above her waist, eyes shut tight as she steadied herself on Regina’s shoulders with one hand.

Cora halted herself as her anger flared, stepping back into the shadows as she shut the door quietly, watching and listening as Malinda moaned and bit her lip, hissing at Regina to stay there—right there—and Regina complied with the young woman’s wishes. From her viewpoint, Cora could see Regina’s tongue flick through Malinda’s folds, sucking and pushing as the woman towering over her leaned harder into the wall behind her back, legs giving out under Regina’s obviously skilled tongue.

Her daughter, on her knees, eating the pussy of some random girl in Cora’s employment—it was despicable; It was not only below _Regina’s_ stature but it lowered _Cora’s_ by association. The fact that Regina did not even have the clarity of mind to restrain herself whilst she was expected to attend a ball was adding insult to injury. If the display before had sickened Cora, watching Malinda sag through her knees in post-orgasmic bliss and become enwrapped in grateful arms and loving kisses was even worse. It seemed her little girl had a crush on this wench, and well, that would not do. Sex, Cora could have lived with but not _this_. Love was the epitome of weakness, and weakness was not what Cora had in store for her daughter. No, she was going to cure her of this delusion swiftly.

A swift flick of the wrist, and the recuperating maid flew through the air to land against the wall with a loud smack, crashing towards the cold stone with a groan. Regina's eyes flicked from Malinda to the source of her predicament, and the fear that settled into the quickly wetting pools was delicious to behold.

“Mother, don’t. Don’t hurt her. It was all my idea, I’m so sorry I’m late. I’ll come with you right now, I’ll be good.” Regina pleaded, the panic clear in her voice and eyes. Cora laughed as she swished closer, relishing the fear the two young women exuded.

“You will come with me, Regina? With the come of another woman on your face, smelling like her filth, with your dress all wrinkled?” Cora asked, feigned amusement lacing her voice.

“I’ll clean up, I’ll make myself presentable, I promise. No one will know!” Regina tried, tears now streaming down her face, but the words hardly reached Cora’s ears. Her blood was rushing in them, her heart pounding in anger and—dare she admit it?—jealousy.

“ _I_ know, Regina. _I_ know!” She said, stopping herself only just barely from shouting the words as she rushed forward, taking a physical hold on her daughter’s throat, watching the bug she had just been pleasuring scamper away in fear. She sneered at the blonde over Regina’s shoulder and the filth cowered even further, looking for a way out of this room. Regina gasped and Cora loosened her hold a little as she realized she was squeezing perhaps a bit too hard in her anger. 

“You, out. Now, and don’t you dare leave this palace. I promise, I will find you if you do, and our talk then is going to be a lot less… pleasant than our talk will be now. Go!” Cora hissed, and Malinda looked up at Regina, still locked tightly in Cora’s hand. “Don’t look at her, look at me. Go!”

This time, Malinda _did_ get up, and she _did_ scamper off, leaving Cora to focus her full attention on her daughter, who was trembling and flustered, hands balled into fists at her side, trying to restrain herself from clutching at Cora’s wrist. Leaning in close, Cora sniffed her daughter’s face and felt the bile rise up in her throat.

“Disgusting.” She spat, and pushed Regina back, releasing her at the same time and watching her tumble down on the floor where she remained seated, head down in shame and fear as tears dripped down onto her dress. She would have to make an excuse for her daughter to the guests, but there were other things to take care of first—punishment, for example. 

“Get up.” She gritted through clenched teeth. Regina complied instantly, and Cora forced herself into her space as she plucked at the fingers of her gloves, undoing them so she could slip them off. When the flat of her hand connected with a blushing cheek, Regina wasn’t surprised, but she did flinch at the pain. Eyes locked, and Cora shook her head slowly.

“I had such high hopes for you…” She said softly, and saw her words impact even more solidly than a strike to the face. 

“Please, mother, I’ll do better. I’ll end it with Malinda, I’ll attend every ball. I really am sorry for letting you down, I just—” Regina tried, but Cora interrupted her, magically squeezing her windpipe until Regina was reduced to a gasping mess, now indeed clawing at binds she knew she could not break. Panic settled into her eyes and Cora realized that she had never been as furious as she was at this very moment. She had plans—good plans—for her daughter and if anything, Regina needed curing of this perverted desire before Cora could execute them.

“Just, what? Regina? You just wanted to taste the pussy of another woman? You wanted to be so vulgar as to kneel between the legs of someone so far below your standing you shouldn’t even look her in the eye? Does she do the same to you, stupid girl? Does she lick you? Fuck you with her fingers?” Cora didn’t need to have Regina draw breath to know the answer to her question; that bug’s fingers had been deep inside her daughter, and Cora sneered, trying for a moment to reign in her anger so she could undo the binds enough for a single breath to be drawn—an opportunity that was jumped upon immediately. 

Another quick flick of the wrist and the soiled dress disappeared, leaving Regina naked, and with even more fear in her eyes than before—eyes that were bulging now. Her fingernails were clawing at her own skin to loosen the chokehold, and Cora watched with satisfaction as she clawed herself raw in her desperate attempt to get more air into her burning lungs. Cora wondered for a moment if she would feel better or worse about this moment if she still had her heart, but the cold anger she felt now—a detachment from her daughter who was no more than a pawn in her plans to create the best life for her—outweighed everything.

“If you wanted to be fucked, Regina, you should have just asked _me_. How dare you sink so low as the hired help? You are a _princess_! You have a reputation to uphold-- _our_ reputation! If that wench tells anyone of your weakness for the flesh of another woman, you will never be able to marry, let alone marry well. Stupid, stupid, girl. You could have ruined our kingdom with your behaviour!” The cold quietness that had seeped into her voice seemed to register only vaguely in the woman who was slowly losing consciousness now, the urgency draining out of her actions due to the depravation of her body. It would be so easy to just hold on a few more moments, squeeze just a little tighter, and watch the life drain out of Regina. It would be so _satisfying_ , but alas, Cora still had a chance to salvage this mess, and she hadn’t planned years ahead to end it now with a single mistake.

Regina landed upon the bed gracelessly, bouncing once before Cora strapped her down by her wrists and ankles, locking her to the bedposts as she spread her open. Regina was gasping, panting, coughing, every breath producing a painful wheeze from a crushed throat, and tears she now had the strength to produce again streamed down her face. Cora slowly stepped to the bed, flaming eyes settling on her daughter’s body. She examined the softness of curves, the boniness of her pelvis, the flat of her stomach—developing breasts that barely sagged despite Regina being on her back, and dark, wet, curls that covered a soiled sex. How dare she give up her innocence to a maid like she had done?

Cora took to the bed easily, sitting up between her daughter’s outstretched legs, and placed her gloves next to her knees. Regina’s eyes hadn’t left her a moment, despite her misery, although she hadn’t attempted to speak. She looked wild like an animal, terrified and in shock. Still, Cora could tell her silence was about to be broken.

“Please don’t.” Regina begged, well aware of her mother’s intentions—because while Regina may _act_ stupid most of the time, she wasn’t _actually_ stupid by any stretch of the word. Cora’s smile darkened as she leaned over her daughter’s trembling body.

“Oh but I will, Regina. I will, because you must learn a lesson today—a very important one. The lesson that defying me comes with a price—a steep price. Now, unless you want to alarm all our guests to your wicked desires, I suggest you try not to make a sound. Do not make me gag you.” Cora warned as she trailed her fingers up Regina’s leg, and Regina sobbed audibly, trying to look away from her mother and what was happening to her body but Cora didn’t allow her. 

“Oh no, Regina. Look at me. Look at what I am doing to you. If you want your perverted pleasure, you will have it—I’ll give you more pleasure than your body can take—but if you look away, I’ll make it _hurt_.” She vowed, and Regina nodded, her body straining against the bindings, her eyes full of fear and regret, and just a touch of anger that enflamed Cora’s rage. She would pound that out of her daughter, she vowed. Every bit of it.

Two fingers ran the length of Regina’s sex, hurrying this lesson along because she had a party to attend to—a party she still had to salvage somehow, because Regina surely wouldn’t be attending. Her mind was still firmly on that as she twisted her wrist and filled her daughter, watching her eyes widen then fall shut a moment as her body shook and trembled. Regina groaned despite herself, and Cora licked her lips in satisfaction because what she found with her fingers was enough to make Cora want to make this _last_. Her daughter was slippery and hot, and Cora nearly gagged, realizing that this had all been for that blonde cockroach she would soon have to deal with as well.

She didn’t give Regina time to adjust to being penetrated, but set a rough pace that Regina fought against, trying first to keep her body still, then move with the thrusts to lessen their impact. Cora laughed.

“Oh dear child, that is not how this encounter is going to go. If I want you to feel something, Regina, you will feel it. You will feel every bit of it.” She explained, and scissored her fingers, stretching her daughters tight channel. Regina groaned, although Cora could see her panting for entirely different reasons than recuperating from the lack of air she had only recently been subjected to.

How had Cora been reduced to instilling this lesson in her daughter—the lesson that actions came with reactions, that there were ramifications to any decision made? How had Regina thought she would keep her activities a secret? She sighed angrily, forcing her fingers harder inside Regina, who whimpered and bit down on her lip, trying not to call out in pain or arousal or fear—whichever was currently at the forefront of her daughters mind. Cora couldn’t find it in her to care, regardless.

It was only by the time three fingers were pumping roughly into her daughter, Cora became mildly interested. The tears had dried now, and Regina had stopped fighting both the bindings and her penetration. Instead, the eyes had gone a special type of blank—dead—where she was _looking_ but not seeing anything. It seemed Regina had found a way to cope with what was happening to her body—namely to check out of it for the duration. Well, that would not do.

She didn’t stay her hand, simply dug the nails of her other hand painfully into Regina’s thigh. With a gasp, Regina came to, thrashing a moment as her eyes whirled with emotion.

“Don’t do that again, Regina.” Cora warned darkly. “I am warning you.” 

Regina trembled, then nodded, and bit her lip until Cora could see blood well up as she tried to muffle her cries. Cora’s arm was already getting tired, and it wasn’t enough—she wanted more than this—she wanted the screams. A flick of her wrist to make sure that any screams she produced from her daughter wouldn’t actually be overheard, and she pulled out of her daughter’s loosening channel. The relief that flooded her young face lasted only moments, because the fourth finger added was such a stretch on her sex that she lost the fight with her control: Regina screamed as she arched off of the bed, struggling again as Cora pressed as deep as she could, barely reaching the second knuckle of her fingers.

“I want you to remember this moment, Regina. I want you to remember the pain…” Cora told her softly, but with an acidic quality to her voice even as she reached up her daughter’s body to tweak a rock hard nipple. The scream this produced from her daughter was laced with arousal, and Cora smirked as she rolled the hard nub between her fingers again. 

“…and the pleasure.” She added, then descended her hand down Regina’s body until she could rub her thumb over her clit again and again as she worked her fingers deeper and deeper inside her daughter’s slowly complying body. She could see the muscles of her thighs tremble, see her chest rise and fall as her breathing became more and more erratic, and while Regina couldn’t look at her anymore, Cora didn’t correct her this time. Regina jumped with every hard rolling motion over her clit, and Cora worked her until she could feel sweat trickle down her own back, until she could feel the desire to hurt and abuse reach its height, and until Regina took the whole of her fingers as she spasmed under her, screams now alternating with moans and pleas that fell off of her lips seemingly subconsciously—what her daughter was pleading for, exactly, Cora didn’t know, but she also didn’t care.

She fucked her daughter until Regina’s screams and cries and pleas were cut off suddenly, and her body tensed in its entirety. Eyes slammed shut even as tears fell from it, and Cora increased her thrusts despite the pain in her arm, and despite the resistance of gripping walls. She pounded her daughter’s sex until locks of her hair fell in front of her face, until she was out of breath, until her arm burned because of the strain, and until the darkness and anger gave way inside of her for satisfaction. By that time, she had lost count of the times she had made her daughter come, only aware of her own rage and frustration over having a daughter who defied her at every single turn. 

She pulled out of her daughter suddenly, sitting up and running her unsoiled hand over her sweaty forehead and up to settle her hair at least somewhat into place. Regina was panting, crying, completely silent save for the gasps for air she was trying to force into her lungs. She was shivering, her thighs clenched as close together as she could force them, and when Cora tiredly undid the magic of the bindings, Regina curled up into a foetal position, a hand reaching between her legs to cup herself and ease the pain. Cora smirked at that. 

“Well…” She started, recovering her voice and breath enough to sound steady and stable. She hadn’t planned to lose control this much, but here they were—she was just going to have to play it off somehow. 

“I hope you have learned your lesson, dear. Stay here and clean yourself up. I will come check on you after the ball. Really, Regina. I wish you would not have forced me to do this… I take no pleasure in this at all.” She assured her daughter as she stepped off of the bed, making use of Regina’s mirror to fix her own appearance. The redness of her exertion on her cheeks and chest, however, would not leave so easily. Well, she would just have to take a walk in the crisp outside air before heading back. She had hands to wash, anyway.

“Don’t make me do this to you again.” She pressed upon her daughter after turning back to her. Regina did not respond, simply sobbed on the bed as she clutched herself. Cora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she lifted the magic around the room and headed out into the hallway on slightly unstable legs, shutting the door behind her solidly, without glancing back to the miserable specimen of humanity currently recovering in the room beyond. She was done with her daughter for today, and just looking upon her made her nauseous. 

With brisk steps, she headed to the kitchens and, indeed, found Malinda waiting for her by herself, abandoned by the rest of the kitchen staff. Her whole body trembled as she threw herself in front of Cora’s feet. Cora didn’t even grace her with a reply to her rambling apology before snapping her neck with a wave of her hand; the body that thudded gracelessly to the floor was apology enough, Cora decided. A snap of her fingers and the body disappeared in a huff of smoke to be dealt with later. For now, she had hands to wash and a party to get back to—a party for a daughter who never managed to do what Cora desired of her. Pathetic, truly, and it wasn’t Cora’s fault for losing control as she had—that was all on Regina; everything always was.


End file.
